


Over the Garden Wall: Into the Unknown

by earthkidsareweird



Series: Over the Garden Wall But With Reddie [8]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Over the Garden Wall Fusion, Angst, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Beverly Marsh is a Good Friend, Eddie Kaspbrak is Bad at Feelings, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier Flirts, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthkidsareweird/pseuds/earthkidsareweird
Summary: Flashback to the Losers last romp in Derry before crashing into the Unknown. Not that they know this yet.There's a lot of awkwardness too as Eddie grows jealous of Richie unsure if he has a crush on Bill especially as a mixtape just labeled "For You" shows up.It's Over the Garden Wall but with Reddie and Part 8
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Over the Garden Wall But With Reddie [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621285
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of character list:
> 
> Eddie=Wirt (ish)  
> Richie=Greg (ish)  
> Bev=Beatrice  
> Mike=Woodsman  
> Beast=Pennywise  
> Bill=Fred the Horse  
> Ben=Miss Langtree (ish)  
> Stan=Endicott (ish)
> 
> But really they're all just hanging out in Derry and aren't friends yet.

# I.

Chances are there’s better places than Derry, Maine to spend Halloween. Places with more interesting people and a whole lot less creeps. Then again chances are Richie Tozier will learn sooner than later considering whispered conversations about moving between his parents. Rather than think about it though, he stared at his reflection listening to sticky sweet music while trying to guess if the shirt for his costume is dark white when he needs it to be normal white. It’s the only Van Halen shirt he could find because there’s nothing good about them then his sister helped make a black vest from some old curtains. He’s about to go over to the window to see if Eddie’s arrived or not when there’s a knock at the door.

This he ignores and looks outside instead to just see children, so many loud children running around outside and trick-or-treating seeing that it’s the time of the season. There’s a cop car at the end of the street, hanging out there with an officer standing outside it, leaning there as people mosey on past them. There’s a whole other knock on the door, but first Richie picks an empty case for a cassette off a bookshelf. There’s not a lot on the shelf, his parents put it there thinking he’d be a reader but it’s not like any of them in the house are even readers.

Despite the fact he doesn’t own a record player, he’s got a few hanging out there from Cheech & Chong, George Carlin, Eddie Murphy, and Richard Pryor. The only book he’s got is _Firestarter_ , it sits next to some haphazard things he's grabbed along the way. Arcade tokens, flyers also from the arcade, and one of those photo booth picture sets he took with Bill once because Bill insisted. He hid a VHS of _Poltergeist_ in the cover of _Monster Squad_ from his parents, not that they’d really care. It was just easier to avoid them like at all costs.

Before Richie can do anything else, the door to his room pops open, courtesy of his sister. “RICH! Jesus! It’s so loud you can’t even hear me say turn it down.” She pauses to add a dramatic empathise. “TURN IT DOWN!”

Richie snatches deodorant from the floor and chucks it at his sister’s face, it’s a good thing he’s bad at aiming because it doesn’t come close to striking her. “What the fuck? Get out!”

“Can’t even hear myself think!”

“No can do, it’s for science!” Richie throws some socks at her, but she dodges this one. His sister makes a quick move across the room towards his cassette player to turn it off. “Get out!”

“Oh my God! Wait! Rich! Is this. . .?” His sister’s too nosey, she pops it open to pull the tape out to get a better look, but Richie lunges across his room in an attempt to stop her already glad he didn’t follow through with his initial idea. It just says _For You_ across the front. His sister holds it up. “Shit! Is the Trashmouth himself about to make a romantic gesture?”

Their mom overhears in the hallway and looks into the room. “What are you two yelling about? Romantic gesture?”

“MOM!” snaps Richie and he manages to swipe the mixtape he made from his sister. “Stop.” He slips it into the case. “Leave us alone.”

Richie’s sister darts to the door and slowly closes it while peeking out at their mom. “Don’t worry, I got this so bye.” The door’s shut before their mom can say anything else. On the other side she makes enough of a ruckus for them to know she’s off somewhere else in the house, probably about to forget all this just went down. Doesn’t matter because Richie’s sister whips around leaning her back against the door. “It’s Bill, isn’t it.”

“It’s shut up, why don’t ya!”

She’s all smiles. “Oh my God! It’s Bill. I mean, no weird voices? No jokes? I know I’m right, aren’t I?”

“JUST. . .seriously get out!” Richie retorts again hanging onto the mixtape he made because there’s probably some words he needs to share.

“Ok, so here’s the deal, Rich. Since there’s curfew and all, you got two choices? Being bored at home or I can be nice and let you join us at Jason Funderberker’s tonight as long as you don’t be. . .like _you_.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m better than you, remember?”

“ _Richard_.” His sister puts both hands on his shoulder and looks him in the eye. “You’re such a bad liar.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, Rich, fuck you cause I know you know what I mean.” She lets go and smirks at him the whole time while hanging out there. “Bill’s already been invited so hope that’s easy and um, tell your loser friend that he can come but he too can’t just like be himself. People wanna have fun.”

Richie rolls his eyes because this conversation needed to end. Downstairs their mom shouts for him because Eddie’s arrived. Richie grabs an orange sweatshirt from his bed, drops the mixtape into the pocket and ties it to his waist.

As Richie passes his sister, he does one of those accidental-not-so-accidental shoulder bumps before opening the door and let’s her know, “I’m not going to Jason Fuckburner’s.” 

Already Richie’s heading downstairs and his sister calls after him, “You’re just jealous that I’m smarter than you!”

Richie darts downstairs to find Eddie waiting outside for him dressed in all black and punk nonsense. They stare at each other. “The fuck, Eds?”

From another room, Richie’s mom yells, “Language!”

“Sorry, my bad!” he shouts to her before looking at Eddie again. “The fuck, Eddie?”

“I don’t think that’s what she meant,” replies Eddie.

“We were supposed to be Bill and Ted!”

“We never even talked about that! That’s not a thing! I barely even know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean you barely. . .? Um George Carlin!

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know? Just shut up, Richie, I don’t have to like all the same things you like.”

From back inside, Richie’s sister isn’t done harassing him, she hops down the steps. “Bet I know who does like the same things! Your friend who’s currently at the game or so I heard.”

Eddie squints at her before leaning towards Richie to whisper, “What friend?”

“His. . .friend! The one he’ll say a roooomantic gesture to!” 

Richie kicks the door shut behind himself grumbling something that’s better going unheard. He’s all tense and even shoots Eddie a dirty look. “Come on, we should just go!”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing! I’m fine.” Richie brushes straight past Eddie about to carry one rather than continue either conversation they were having on at present. He does nudge Eddie along the way even though still, he’s all wound up and tense about something.

Eddie keeps pausing and standing in Richie’s way as he tries to keep on talking, “Hey so we’re not going to the game, right?”

“What? No. Fuck that shit. The Barrens like planned.” But Richie doesn’t laugh or anything. He keeps nudging Eddie forward until Eddie starts walking like the normal person he is although he’s still feeling a little too tense. “Anyway, I talked to this guy who knows a guy who said he can help us out. You brought some cash, right?”

“Of course.” Eddie pulls a wad of cash from his pocket. Right away Richie grabs his hand, pushing the cash out of sight but it’s all weird and they’re still technically holding hands while standing around there. Then Eddie returns his money to his pocket eyeing one of the sweatshirt pockets of Richie’s, it’s wide open with a cassette tape hanging out there. Romantic gesture sure sounds like a lot of bull shit and nothing like the Richie Trashmouth Tozier he thought he knew. “So where we going first?”

“Somewhere on Jackson Street.”

Eddie stops again, he plants his feet into the ground and glares at Richie who almost keeps walking past him and straight into some unlucky trick-or-treaters. The mixtape bounces in his pocket, almost falling out. 

At least, Richie stops, glancing back at him even after he almost runs over the kids. “Huh?” 

“So we _are_ going to the game?” Eddie actually laughs at this idea. All this time avoiding any sort of event and now they’re about to just casually to the stupid homecoming game.

“No, we’re going to. . .” Richie thinks about the words he’s about to say next. “Oh shit, fuck. . .” He pulls a crumpled paper from his pocket holding it up for Eddie to see. Although Eddie’s already shaking his head still chuckling about this. “Yeah, that’s the football field he gave me the address to the football field.”

“So we’re going to the game.”

“Yeah, so we _are_ going. . .to the game.” Richie shrugs and tosses the paper to the ground yet Eddie fetches it off the ground to toss into a trashcan somewhere along the way. “Pretty sure vampires don’t care about litter.”

“Vampires are immortal, they gotta care more about the earth than humans.” Eddie walks beside Richie making sure he sees his huge smirk for winning the witty comments of that round. 

But the two descend into some silence as they keep walking along. There’s not a lot of Halloween traditions in Derry, but they’d spent every Halloween together with matching costumes until maybe now. Eddie glances at the mixtape just hanging out there in Richie’s pocket, hanging out in the open like all the secrets he pretends he’s keeping from his parents talking about moving, the reasons behind him hanging out with Bill even more (come on, even his sister seems to get it), and now some gift he has for a whole different person than him. Somewhat traditions past have been them watching horror movies together in costume after trick-or-treating but maybe drinking in the Barrens will be a better way to spend the night.


	2. II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie goes to buy some beer from Bev while Eddie makes a huge mistake.

# II.

**Earlier**

It was a struggle to navigate with a sheet over his head. Eddie even cut eye holes in it and yet he feared he’d step on it and face plant on the hallway floor. Blood would get everywhere. His mother would throw a fit, make him clean it before she cleaned him up and took him to the hospital. Eddie didn’t trip like he thought, good, and stopped in the entrance to the so-called family room.

His mother, Sonia Kaspbrak, was leaning back on some lazboy recliner. Her feet were up and she had the television on while some reruns of what sounded a lot like _Wild, Wild West_ played. “Where do you think it’s going?”

Eddie wasn’t even moving to the exit. “Trick-or-treating with Richie.”

“You know, I don’t like that boy,” was her automatic reply. “Besides, aren’t you a little old now?”

_I know, I know_. “Yeah. . .but we’re helping Harry Dunning to go trick-or-treating.” Eddie paused, a commercial came on louder than the program forcing him to struggle under the sheet. He needed to go in and turn the volume down knowing if he waited too long Sonia would complain. “Because he can’t, you know because. . .his dad killed. . .his family that other Halloween.”

Sonia glared at Eddie, her glasses magnifying her dark eyes. “Be back before curfew.”

“Of course.” Eddie began to leave still careful not to step wrong. Without looking at her, he let her know, “Police extended it for the night.” Time to get out, take the sheet off and be in his normal costume where is mother couldn’t see because she would flip.

“ _Eddie_. . .!” Sonia called after him as if he were already out the door. Her cutting voice caused Eddie to stop. It took him a second too long to turn and face her. “What about a kiss?”

No response from Eddie, but he inched forward attempting to think up some dumb ass comment he’d be mad about Richie saying in the moment. None came to mind. He kept his fake costume on, leaned over pretending to kiss his mom. “See you later.” But that wasn’t quite the case after all.

**Later**

Once again, Richie changes the conversation of costumes altogether. “So I asked my sister what to get and she said PBR like we don’t know shit.” He fixes his glasses. “Then we’ll just go drink and smoke or something in the Barrens like planned plus. . .” A weird silence came in between him and Eddie. It caused Eddie to not even look at Richie. Whatever words are about to come next, they’re not gonna be the dumb joke he’s looking for. In the end, all Richie said was “. . .I need to talk to you about something.”

_Bill_? Eddie comes close to asking, he wouldn’t be surprised if the guy shows up or if he happens to be the guy who knows a guy. But actually, he’d be surprised seeing Bill doesn’t talk much to anybody other than Richie or so it seems. “Yeah, sounds great. More important, alcohol. So who’re we talking to?”

“Marsh? I think his name is Marsh.”

“People aren’t named Marsh, Richie.”

“Ok, whatever you say, Eddie _Spaghetti_.” Richie takes the lead heading towards the football field right by Derry High School.

“That’s not even my. . .wait, Marsh, you mean like Beverly Marsh?”

Richie grins. “Oh shit! No way! That’s perfect then.”

“Why?”

“You know what they say about her, right?” Eddie just shakes his head, he should’ve nodded instead to end the conversation. This is gonna be awful. Somebody should warn all the kids around them by saying _earmuffs_. “I mean, come on, it’s all about like _who’d she do_.” Richie gives Eddie a playful punch. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and not even have to pay ‘cause I’ve heard, the list is longer than my wang.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Also, not even saying much considering. . .you.”

“Oh, like you’d know.”

Eddie scowls at him. “Beep, beep.”

“You could always ask your mom about last night.”

“Fuck you, Richie!”

Some kid dressed as a cowboy paused gasping at Eddie, probably he should’ve been the one warning earmuffs. The kid looked at a pet rock pretending they’re shocked together before walking faster to catch up with whoever he was with. Maybe he could even be a Dunning kid. Sonia never questioned his excuse and the brutal Halloween Dunning murders took place in 1958.

Thankfully, up ahead is the football field and a lot of people just shouting and cheering for whatever is happening on the field. They come up to one of the open gates and Richie shuts up looking around off under the bleachers not minding his person. The whole time Eddie stands a bit behind Richie keeping his eye on the game, he avoids eye contact with Greta Keene who’s chewing on some gun while she leans against some bleachers. She whispers something to one of her friends, they all sneer at them. Not that Richie notices any of this, and he also misses the fact that the school’s mascot is pretty close to them. Bill Denborough all dressed up as a stallion, a horse, a something to cheer on the football team.

“Shit, look, there’s Molly Ringwald.” Richie points out Beverly Marsh, who’s tucked underneath the bleachers busy smoking with her back to the game. He’s not paying any attention to the mixtape in his pocket or his romantic gesture or anything of the sort. “Let’s go.”

“What’re you losers doing here?” Greta blurts, cutting Eddie’s attention away from Richie. He almost yelps too started by how quickly she moved. “Are you like even allowed to be here?”

“Yeah, Greta, we’re like allowed to be here.” Eddie rolls her eyes.

Greta signals like she needs more of an explanation but gets to talking instead, “Are you allowed or are you like allowed to be here?”

“Oh shu. . .” Eddie loses his words because Richie’s gone. He’s already underneath the bleachers not giving a shit about any of them

And yet for some reason, Eddie just stands there, stuck in a single spot with Greta pretending she’s good at insults, she’s good at being a bitch, but she’s not a creative one. Nothing she says matters, Eddie’s focus is stuck on the mixtape falling from Richie’s pocket as he waves down Bev. It’s Eddie who grabs the mixtape first. Greta makes a weak attempt at doing so. Eddie pockets it noticing it just says a _for you_. 

Rather than follow Richie underneath the bleachers, he heads out towards the game. Neither team is playing, instead, Bill is out as the mascot as the marching band plays attempting their best rendition of some Styx song, it’s a failure. Did Bill really think becoming the school mascot would help him be more liked? Picked on less? Popular? Some tables are set up for school clubs. The one on the end is the birding club which Eddie had no idea was even a thing, to be honest. He stared at it unable to understand why. Birds were stupid and terrifying and there’s about 60 different diseases you can get from bird poop and birds poop anywhere they want.

“Eddie! Hey!” The kid there goes to pick up a pamphlet until he realizes Eddie is blankly staring at him. “It’s Stan, remember? We were lab partners to dissect the frog until you threw up.”

“No. But. I’m Eddie.” 

Stan looks about as annoyed as anybody could get in about three seconds flat. “I know, I just said your name.”

Eddie looks back at the field. “Hey, do you happen to know when the mascot’s done?”

“Bill? Yeah, why? After halftime. He said he’ll help me out with the birding table. So I guess it helps that we’re here to help you with one thing, just not the ideal thing.”

Eddie drops the mixtape on the table. “Give that to him. It’s from Richie.” 

And the band plays on behind them with the mascot dancing. Stan picks up the mixtape flipping it over from the For you side. Richie can’t write, it looks like a second-grader attempted to spell out song titles. Eddie is a little too eager attempting to get a glance of them. All he makes out is the first two songs.

_Just like Honey by The Jesus and The Mary Chain  
I’m in Love with a German Film Star by The Passions_

There’s no time to make out more because Stan hides it under the table while giving him a dirty look. “You mean like Richie _Tozier_ Richie or another Richie?”

“That one.”

Stan rolls his eyes and tucks the mixtape away into a bag on the seat beside him. “If you say so.” He looks back up at Bill. There’s something expecting about his expression. Either Eddie’s gotta sign up for the birding club or leave. “Bill will get it.”

With this Eddie leaves going under the bleachers only to find Richie laughing too much for Bev to manage to light a cigarette for him. He’s leaning closer to her and she manages to light it even though he’ll never stop fidgeting.

“Hey! Where’d you go, Eds?” Richie says into a puff of smoke.

“Bathrooms.”

“Yo, no! That’s a fucking lie. You? Porta-Potties?”

Eddie shrugs. “People can change. Can we go now?”

“Wanna come?” Richie asks Bev as he picks up a regular paper grocery bag with beer stuffed into it under some haphazard oranges like that’d help out. 

“Wanna come where?” Bev replies, she nervously laughs as she looks between the two.

“Barrens. To drink. But if you drink, you owe us some of our money back.” Richie turns looking at Eddie and puts his hand out. “Speaking of?” So Eddie hands his cash to Richie who passes it off to Bev.

Bev drops a cigarette butt as her face turns all bright red. She’s mouthing a silent what before she goes, “Can’t, I don’t got any money. Sorry.” Of course she says this while showing off the money she just made and tucking it away into her back pocket. She’s not even in a costume, just her everyday clothes.

“Hmmm, well, I guess if we call it a date, I can let you have a beer or two.”

“Or we just call it even stevens.” Bev tucks a cigarette behind Richie’s ear. “Two for two.”

“You win.” Richie pushes his glasses back up his nose as he smiles at Bev.

This is even worse than Eddie can imagine. A true Halloween horror. “Ok! Can we just go now?” he interrupts. The marching band ends and they’re leaving the field, Bill’s gonna follow them and soon end up at the birding table to chat with Stan. If they’re still hanging around that’ll mean Bill will come over and stutter all over the place trying to thank Richie and he’d have to stand around as the third wheel to Richie and Bill while also being the third wheel to Richie and Bev. “Please! I gotta be back before nine or my mom will flip.”

Richie takes one last drag of his cigarette before he tosses it off to the side. He steps on it while smiling at Eddie the entire time. Beer is in hand and he’s ready to go. Hopefully, before anybody else decides to chat with them or stop them because there’s Bill. Instead, it’ll be all weird, Bill getting some stupid mixtape from him without a clue to what’s up or a person to talk to about it.

Still, Richie’s smirking as he looks at Eddie. “I like the sound of that. Shall we?”

“We shall.” Bev gets ready to move with them, a disappointment. 

The game is back on and if there’s any words to share, they’d be lost in the waves of shouting. So Eddie just smiles in return before he takes the lead this time around to head towards the Barrens.


	3. III.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie, Eddie, and Bev are hanging out in the Barrens when they overhear something super weird.

# III.

Eddie can’t stop staring at Bev. He’s glad Richie is distracting himself while breaking some glass bottles they brought with them to the barrens. He’s off kicking them off rocks or throwing them into trees. But Bev! Well, Bev sits there next to a little radio she brought along. One that’s more static than melody, it attempts to play I Think We’re Alone Now but it sure doesn’t sound like Tiffany and sounds a whole lot older somehow matching her as she camps out there rolling a blunt.

When Bev looks up, she sees Eddie staring at her, his eyes look ready to pop out of his face and he abruptly looks away from her. “What?” Bev asks. “Don’t worry, I’ll share.”

But Eddie looks back. “Marijuana is a gateway drug. You know what that means?”

Bev lights her blunt and takes a hit. She shakes her head and bursts into laughter. “No, no, I don’t and you know what. . .?”

“What?” replies Eddie.

“I don’t care.”

Eddie looks away from her. “Yeah, well, you’re sitting close to poison ivy, too, that’s dangerous.”

“You’re a little strange, aren’t you?”

Chances are the conversation would’ve considered tumbling into greater awkwardness, but Richie cut them all off. He’s over somewhere, now out of sight, yelling, “GUYS! Come on! Check this out!”

Eddie sighs. “He probably thinks he found bamboo again.”

“Bamboo?” Bev starts to laugh again. 

“It’s a Richie thing, don’t-don’t worry about it.” Eddie gets up. He moves across a few rocks to make sure his feet don’t get wet from the river that runs through the Barrens. Water’s low at least. He pauses on rocks to find Richie standing in the water. His sneakers are going to be soaked through and the water is just above his ankles as he stands there proudly holding up a fairly large-sized frog. “RICHARD TRASHMOUTH TOZIER! You put that frog down right now before you die!”

“Jesus! Eds, frogs don’t murder people.” Richie holds the frog closer to his cheek. Bev stays on land and can’t stop laughing at this madness. “Look at him! He takes after me!”

“Frogs can kill! They do! They kill with salmonella! Do you wanna die of salmonella?!”

Richie wades through the river while hanging onto his frog. “I’m pretty sure you made that word up.”

“I don’t think he did,” Bev butts back into the conversation. She takes a perch on another rock, smoking the whole while enjoying the time out there in the woods.

“Don’t listen to any of them, Eds,” Richie comments. Even though it’s obvious he’s looking at the frog, Eddie is feeling real confused. Richie’s holding the frog way too close to his face still churning Eddie's stomach. “If you don’t listen to them, Eds, I won’t because I love you.”

“Are you-Are you talking to me?” It’s practically a yelp from Eddie.

Richie snorts as he laughs. “No, I’m talking to Eds.” He holds the frog up again. “Remember? You’re always like stop calling me Eds, _Eddie_.”

“I fucking hate you, man.” Eddie shakes his head but still smiles, it’s a kind of smile because he wants to hide it from Richie and Bev, not that Bev is really paying attention. She’s joining them laughing and smoking still.

“Don’t worry, I fucking hate you, too,” Richie wades through the water towards them. Of course, Richie holds the frog close to Eddie’s face who leans back grimacing. “Maybe if you kiss him, you’ll get a frog prince.”

Eddie is leaning away, he bends his back at such an odd angle, his spine might pop. The frog is close and he’s also close to falling off in the water and they’re so close to the sewage and who knows what else is in the water. Fish pee. Frog pee. Bird pee. Deer pee. Probably so much human pee and that’s not considering all the feces in it. Also, there's so many rocks, if he hits his head he’d get all concussed, that’d be bad.

“Eddie! Eddie! You got. . .You gotta do it. . .!” Richie insists without giving up.

“No!”

“EEEEDDIE!”

“No!”

“Kiss him!” Bev shouts from her spot, she pops open a can of beer to add to their empty collection of four so far. “C’mon Eddie! Kiss him! Kiss him!”

“No! No!” Eddie guards his face with his hand only to lose his step. He falls back but Richie catches him before he falls and that’s even while holding onto his frog. “Fuck you?”

“Fuck me? I just saved you. Fuck you!”

Bev still stays on her rock cracking up all the while. “Kiss him!”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Fine.” Before Richie can figure out what the hell is happening, Eddie gives him the quickest peck on the cheek. But Eddie starts gagging right away. Bev falls off her rock. And Eddie hasn’t stopped pretending and pretending badly that he’s about to puke. “Oh God! I think-I think. . .” Eddie looks back up at Richie. “I don’t think it worked, you still look like shit and not even princely shit.” But also like what the fuck? What the fuck! He did that. Why would he ever kiss Richie? It was-It was. . .

Richie holds whatever comment pops into his head while he’s gawking at Eddie. Protecting his frog under his one arm, he uses his free hand to push his glasses up on his nose. “This-This has never happened before. . .nobody ever says I look like shit but quite the opposite.”

“Like piss?” 

There’s a beat of silence between him and Eddie, it’s filled in with Bev but then they join her laughter. Richie continues to wade through water. As he passes Eddie, he gives him enough of a nudge to knock him into the water. It’s such a small plot, more feet in the water. Eddie gawks at water soaking his pants and Richie is already on the shore putting the frog down but it doesn’t leave them. Instead, the frog follows Richie over to their bag and he pops open another beer joining Bev, sort of. He’s looking at Eddie though who is all scowls as he stomps over to them.

“Good thing you’re not a gremlin,” Richie comments. “You’re small enough to be one.”

“I’m sorry, good thing for you I’m not a gremlin cause I’d be eating your face.”

Richie nods and takes a sip of beer. “Cool.” He returns his attention to Bev leaving Eddie alone to get his next beer, which he doesn’t even crack open. Instead, he holds it. Outside is a little too cold to have wet shoes and pants for. Richie’s there looking at Bev with a pretty big smile. “So this has been fun and all but I do need to talk to Eds over there in private.”

“The frog or the person?” replies Bev, she’s stopped smoking by this point and takes another quick sip of beer as she waits for an answer.

“Oh right.” Richie looks over at Eddie. “I’m gonna have to call you Eddie Spaghetti. Don’t want you to get confused with that Eddie C kid.” 

Bev’s holding tight to her beer as she gets up. “Makes sense, Richie may be an ugly prince but he’s still a prince. You gotta get all that stuff figured out after the. . .”

Eddie’s cheeks burn bright red.

Maybe Bev would’ve gone on talking for too long, a huge problem in Richie’s opinion because he has something he does need to talk to Eddie about in private. He reaches into his pocket to check on the mixtape he made but instead, his fingertips bury themselves into laundry lint. Some iciness congregates in his heart. Maybe this is what Eddie feels like whenever he’s having one of those asthma attacks. Can’t breathe. His heart hurts. His brain hurts enough that he can’t figure out why it isn’t present. To be sure, he checks his other pocket pulling out a sticky half-wrapped cough drop. 

_Fuck._

“You don’t hear that?” He didn’t even realize the conversation had changed or Eddie moved closer to Bev or that he practically blacked out there for a second. And after only two beers? Impossible.

_But. . ._

_Fuck._

Richie’s heart is beating fast enough he’s sure he can hear it, he can hear it loud and clear, pounding in his ears and not his chest and yet somehow he still hears it. Not that he knows what Bev’s talking to Eddie about it but she did ask _You don’t hear that?_ Because holy shit, he does heart _that_.

Maybe Derry has some good Halloween traditions other than one gruesome murder. There’s a ghost in the Barrens and it’s singing to them: _It’s the same old story, A fight for love and glory, A case of do or die. . ._

“Yeah,” Richie pretends he’s been in the conversation all along. “It’s probably nothing.

This ghost still sings: _The world will always welcome lovers, As time goes by_.

“It’s coming from over there.” Bev points in the direction and she’s already walking towards the singing ghost. That’s how people die though. “Come on. . .!”

“No, I think-I think we’re good!” Eddie yells as she keeps ongoing.

It seems a bit shitty to let her wander off alone. Both Richie and Eddie look right at each other. Richie’s holding onto the melted cough drop before letting it fall back into his pocket. They can’t speak now, not like this, not without the mixtape he made up for Eddie. It’d been stupid anyway. The kind of stupid that’d make him feel sick the following morning.

“She could die out there,” Richie says.

“Yeah. . .” Eddie whispers this. 

At least, Bev doesn’t get too far ahead. The music becomes louder, and a ghost isn’t singing to them but instead, some kid is out there in what appears to be an underground playhouse or hideout or something cool. He’s sitting down in it on a hammock while a record needle drags itself across a record. At the sight of three people popping through a hole to get inside startles him off the hammock.

“Holy shit! New Kids on the Block!” chimes Bev. “I know him,” this she adds when she looks back at Richie and Eddie.

The kid backs up a little, the record player starts to skip and they all look at it. He let’s it go so he looks over at the newcomers. “Um, hi, I’m Ben.”

“Richie.”

“I’ve. . .heard.” Ben looks away.

“Eddie.” As if it’s not obvious, Eddie raises his hand to be sure everybody knows he’s Eddie.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s Eddie Spaghetti. Says so on his birth certificate.”

“It really doesn’t.” Eddie rapidly shakes his head.

Like Bev, Ben isn’t wearing a costume either. He stops the skipping record at least. “I have other ones. I found that one today. Somebody tried to throw it out.”

“I got a radio and we got beer.” Bev smiles at just Ben. “Join us.”

“What? Fuck that. I need to look at these records. Get to practicing for my big thing on the radio, Richie Tozier’s All Dead Rock Show.”

Ben pulls out a crate with a few beat-up options. “Wow! Are you really on the radio?”

Richie pauses as he flips through them. “Yeah.” His frog friend is still with them and adds a ribbit like he agrees on the fact. “It just hasn’t happened yet though.” Again, Richie touches his pockets, there’s lint and cough drops. Rather than looking through whatever Ben has, he straightens up. “But actually, we gotta bail.” He turns to Eddie and Bev. “I. . .think I dropped something along the way or at the game so I need to get it.”

“What’s wrong?” asks Bev.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

They just met these two kids and it’s not like he’ll profess some shitty feelings he may or may not have and all of it, all of it is just so fucking bogus. Makes sense he’d fuck it all up, too.

Bev asks again, “What? What’d you lose? I can help. I’ve got eyes.”

Nobody even asked Ben, but he still cuts into the conversation, “Me too!”

Richie sighs. “A mixtape.” He pushes his glasses back again. “Something stupid.” His fingers hang onto the sticky cough drop making it melt more.

There are over a million lies Eddie can come up with but out of all of them, he instead, states the truth. “I took it.”

“You took it?” Richie pushes his glasses back again, he fidgets with them while taping his food. There’s no ugly anger slicing into his words. “What does that mean? You took it?”

“Yeah, it fell from your pocket so. . .I took it.”

“Can I. . .have it back?”

But Eddie shakes his head.

“Why?” At least, Richie doesn’t touch his glasses this round of dialogue.

“I gave it. . .I gave it to Stan so he can give it to Bill because I figured you’d not follow through with it.”

“With. . .it? What? What are you talking about?” Richie hasn’t moved, he’s fidgeting so fast, he might vibrate through a wall. Still no anger but it sure is uncomfortable for Bev and Ben stuck in such a private moment.

“I don’t know, you’re sister said romantic gesture and you’re kind of a dingus so I helped. Stan said Bill was working the birding table with him at the game.”

“Shit! Fuck! The game’s over.”Again with the glasses, Richie pushes them up his nose, he inhales real deep, and he talks when he exhales. “I gotta go. My sister said something about Jason Fuckburner’s party, he’d be there.” 

Richie climbs out of Ben’s little space hidden away in the barrens. He disappears up there into the dark while Eddie’s standing in between Bev and Ben. No music plays for them ‘cause Richie never picked any out. Ben attempts to fix the record that’s always playing. He drops the needle again and it informs him: _You must remember this. . ._

“You should go,” says Bev.

“I don’t think you get to uninvite me.” Eddie shoots her a look.

“No, not like that or we should go. Get it back or find it.” Bev leaves next and Ben nods following her. Guess this means he’s joining them for the night.

Eddie’s stuck in the little underground clubhouse, beer in hand. He puts it down and stops the music from playing to follow after them. Nobody’s even in sight anymore, they walked that fast to get Richie’s stupid mixtape. He should’ve chucked the thing when he found it but all the thoughts made no sense. Instead, he focuses on a steady pace to catch up, once in the streets, he could run more safely without tripping over a root and landing face-first into poison ivy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry! All the Losers are going to show up in this, too, as you probably guessed.
> 
> I almost added Mike here but thought of a better spot for him (I hope).


	4. IV.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expectation: Get in, take the mixtape back from Bill, and get out of Jason Funderberker's party without any awkwardness.
> 
> Reality: Almost none of the above.

# IV.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Just. Shit._ Everything is going to shit and there’s so little Richie can do about it other than think the same thing over and over again. _Shit._ He’s at the start of the street that houses Jason Funderberker’s place. Not a whole lot of trick-or-treaters are out in this part of Derry. Rumor has it that near the end some broken-down place is all haunted. Kids who enter don’t leave 29 Neibolt Street. But Jason Funderberker’s place makes it seem like a prime destination after the shitty events throughout the night.

“Can you say something already, Richie?!” Eddie practically shouts this. His reason is more the loud music that’s popping over at Funderberker’s place. 

A strobe light is in the front lawn with fake cobwebs decorating the front and a very real kid puking in the front lawn. Cars are all parked alongside the road and even though houses are all around, nobody calls the police on them. Richie’s just pacing back and forth on the road without saying anything. His hands fidget nonstop while he’s lost in thought, not that it’s deep thought. None of them can hear the _shit, shit, shit, shit_ bumbling around in his brain.

At least, it all stops thanks to a gasp followed by a quick “OH NO.”

Richie stops his pacing to look over at Stan. Eddie, Bev, and Ben turn around to face Stan, too. Bev is hugging Richie’s frog Eds Jr. like he’s hanging in one of those baby baskets parental units sometimes wear. Stan is standing around in a Halloween costume. He has a raven head on his head, full of feathers, his cheeks are painted with white streaks and he wears eyeliner. The rest of his outfit is black with pretend black feathers pasted along his arms. It looks like Stan was holding a bunch of cupcakes, but they’re eating asphalt now at his feet.

“What the fuck are you supposed to be, Stanny?” blurts Richie.

Stan squints at him, but answers “A panda.”

“You did a shit job, you look more like a bird.”

“What are you doing here?”

“My sister invited us.”

Stan groans. He looks at his fallen cupcakes and kicks them a bit to the side until they’re closer to the curb than the road. “Well. . .don’t talk to me at the party.”

Richie blocks Stan’s path. “Not so fast. Where’s Big Bill?”

“I don’t know? The party? He left before me.” When Stan tries to walk around Richie, he fails because each step he takes, Richie takes one to stand in front of him until Stan gives up sighing. “What? What do you want?”

“Your help!”

Stan stares at Bev. “Is that a frog?”

“Yeah, but you call him by his proper name, Edward Kaspbrak Jr.”

Underneath Stan’s breath, he whispers, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Richie puts an arm around him pulling him over to the others. “So this is Ben and Bev and they’re going to help us help you in Operation Mixtape.” As soon as Richie says _mixtape_ Stan shoots Eddie a look who does what he can to avoid looking at any of them. “We’re going to have to split up to accomplish this though. I think Stan and me should go in together while Eddie, you wait outside until I give you the signal.” 

“But what’s the signal Richie?” grumbles Eddie while looking at the ground.

“A bird call,” Stan butts back in.

“So when you hear a bird call and that’s when you come in and you ask for my sister and-and Bev and Ben, you should come in and Ben you ask Bev to marry you to create a huge distraction because while you do that Stan and I will point out Bill and Eddie will sneak up and steal the mixtape out of there.”

Nobody offers up a response other than a lot of stares. Bev still hugs Eds Jr. to her chest. Maybe she should say something but Ben sort of smiles even though he’s burning scarlet already. That and Richie doesn’t wait around for any input, he’s right. Of course, he’s right. Richie pushes Stan forward, forcing him through some fallen icing as they head towards the house. This leaves Eddie behind gawking at them in their exit.

“You should say something to him,” comments Bev and Eds Jr. ribbits like he also agrees.

Eddie looks at her. “Shut up. You’re just high.”

“Yeah, but I’m also right,” adds Bev before she leaves with Ben to head inside Jason Funderburker’s place and it’s just Eddie alone in the street all dressed up as some punk vampire from a movie he loves. It’s already getting cold out, he shivers and rolls his eyes before moving towards it to hear this so-called bird call that Stan will give him whenever stupid Bill is spotted.

###

_Super Freak_ by Rick James plays super loud, the music is vibrating through people and walls. It follows up Janet Jackson as Richie and Stan enter. Inside Stan waves to somebody, his feathers form pretend wings along his arms. Richie smiles at him thinking about tossing a compliment in his direction, but that’d be weird another _shit_ to add to his already long list.

There’s kids drinking age-appropriate drinks in red solo cups. Richie walks over to a table looking at drinks just sitting out there. Stan is beside him rolling his eyes. 

“Here. . .” Richie grabs a bottle of whiskey and haphazardly drains some of it into a cup before he adds some tequila though not a lot is left and orange juice. “I made this for you.”

Stan looks ready to barf at the sight of it. “That’s not. . .” Yet he takes it anyway without sipping it as they scan the party.

There’s a group of kids making a bad attempt at dancing, one of whom appears to be dressed as a black cat. They fall over a bit, a drink spills from their cup before getting their balance. It’s just Richie’s sister. She comes over to him with a slight, wobbling gait of a drunk kid.

“Shit! Rich! You actually fucking came!”

“I’d rather my sister _not_ talk about my sex life.”

His sister ignores this attempt of a joke as she squints at Stan like she’s having trouble making out his face. “And not even with. . .” she trails away and leans forward to ‘whisper’ to Richie and by ‘whisper’ it’s because she ends up shouting “OH MY GOD! STAN! IT’S STAN!”

“Shut it, Kit Kat!” snaps Richie, not as loud but he’s actually blushing.

His sister gives Stan a playful nudge. “Shit! Rich and Stan sitting in a tree. . .”

And Richie pushes her. Some of her drink spills over her and she scowls at this mess. “ _Dick_!”

“Where’s Bill? We’re looking for him.”

His sister takes a swig of beer, it’s gone. She pours a tiny drop out and Stan hands the pretend drink Richie made for him. Even though it’s sickening, she starts to drink it, wrinkling her nose the whole time. “I like Kit Kat! You should call me that.”

“Give me a break,” Richie groans.

Across the room, Bev and Ben are milling about. There’s no Eddie insight, he’s too busy mopping on the front lawn waiting for Stan’s bird call. Ben watches them as he pours what appears to be punch into a cup. Chances are, it’s some FUBAR punch hanging out for them, not that Ben will find out because as he pours it, he doesn’t look at the cup and so much of it ends up soaking his shoes.

_Thriller_ starts up. It causes some girls to shriek as they run towards the little group of dancers. Even Richie’s sister pops up and down, she applauds. Before she can join them, Richie grabs onto her. “Richie! Stop being a _dick_ ‘cause you’re a Rich Richie,” she whines.

“Bill? Where’s Bill, Kit Kat? I need to talk to Bill, it’s an emergency.”

“Ooooh my gooood! Is he sad about. . .STAN?!”

“KIT KAT! I need you to focus”

Stan adds, “Yeah! Focus! Kit Kat!”

Richie is still hanging onto his sister’s shoulders and she cups his face, messing with his glasses while chuckling. “He’s not here! Not here,” she replies while laughing and kisses Richie on the forehead. “He left with some others like ten minutes ago.”

Both Richie and Stan give each other a _look_. Across the room, Ben is still pouring punch into his shoes with Bev dancing with Eds Jr. to _Thriller_ when they both catch sight of that look. So Ben throws the spoon down, knocking all the punch over causing a random kid to yell as he drops onto his knee while looking at Bev.

“BEVERLY MARSH!” Ben does what he can to yell over the music and she stops her dance. “WILL YOU. . .” Except out of the corner of his eye, he sees Stan running a finger across his neck to get him to stop. Instead, Ben shouts instead “HAND THE FROG OVER TO ME?” Bev stares at Richie and Stan as she gives up Eds Jr. to Ben.

“Where’d they go, Kit Kat?” Richie keeps interrogating his sister.

She’s just laughing. “The graveyard, duh.”

Richie pushes her towards the faux dance floor. “We gotta go to the graveyard.”

“What about Eddie?” Stan asks Richie.

“We’re gonna go with him, of course.”

“Cool.” 

Then as loud as he can manage, Stan does a bird call. Eddie comes barreling inside but stops when he spots no Bill in the room but dancing drunk kids. Eddie looks across the room at them thinking back to what Bev had to go and say on the street. _You should say something to him._ And even the frog had agreed. Eddie continues to stand staring at Richie from across the room, music is bouncing off all the walls alongside the laughter and chatter of other high school kids.

Richie begins to walk across the room, he leaves Stand behind. He leaves Bev, Ben, and Eds Jr. behind all the same. He comes up beside Eddie patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Eds, we got a lead.” And Richie nudges him out of the house. There’s an expectation the others will follow, and they do. Another plan needs to happen with Bill at the graveyard with whoever else is there.


	5. V.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Eddie come close to getting the mixtape back but some shit goes down and like I guess devastation.

# V.

There’s nothing inherently creepy about Derry’s only graveyard. It casually sits next to the Barrens, a chain-link fence separates it from the wilderness. The grounds are speckled with one grave plot after another. None are too old and there’s no mausoleums protecting the dead out there. Some plots have flowers on them and others not so much. Every Halloween kids leave candy on the Dunning family’s graves since the kids were crushed to death by their hammer-wielding father.

It’s the random town corners by the canal that haunt Derry, not grave plots because out there fading missing children’s posters. The dead might not be dead and even with all its reminders, nobody has a better answer. Just corners where George Denborough watches people pass him by or Betty Ripsom is caught in a silent laugh as if she mocks the world moving past her.

Except the graveyard is feeling more creepy than usual. Richie, Eddie, Ben, Bev, Stan, and Eds Jr. are all present and hiding behind some gravestone near the entrance. Voices carry past grave plots that hang out a lot closer to the Barrens. A bunch of flashlights are on the ground, each one serving a purpose to light up that corner of the area rather than any other.

“Same plan,” Richie whispers before darting to a line of graves closer to the other kids. This forces the others to move closer. “So me and Stan, Ben and Bev, and then Eddie you’re the main person, this is all on you to get the mixtape back?”

“Why me?” Eddie’s pointing at himself.

Richie looks right at him. “Because. . .” The lock eyes with one another. “. . .I trust you.”

“Yeah. Makes sense. Your sister is always saying the same thing to me.”

Richie gives him a nudge.

“Gross! We were just talking to her!” protests Bev.

“I don’t think we should’ve left her behind, she’s pretty drunk. How's she going to get home?” Ben is still hanging onto Eds Jr. even though he’d pause to let the frog pee or kept insisting the frog needed to pee. “Shouldn’t we help her sneak back in?”

Richie laughs. “Are you crazy? By now my parents are so drunk, they’ll probably forget they had kids.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better. They could call the police on her.”

Richie rolls his eyes, he pushes his glasses back up on his nose. “Oh shut up, she’s fine and Operation Mixtape is more important than a regular night for her.” Once again, Richie makes a break for new graves to hide behind.

Ben looks to Eddie for help who offers the gem of a response, “I’m sure Jason Funderberker’s got her.”

“Jason Funderberker isn’t even at Jason Funderberker’s.” But nobody else appears to care to whatever Ben has to say so he cuts across to hide with Richie. 

The rest follow.

Closer to the fence, a group of about five kids are sitting in a circle, they’re shadows in their circle of flashlights. Bill is sitting among them wearing a bee costume while Jason Funderberker is sitting next to him. All eyes are on Mike Hanlon who doesn’t even go to school with any of them. 

Mike’s the only one holding onto a flashlight, he shines it in his face while he provides dramatic pauses to study the faces of those who watch him. “It happened right in the woods behind me here. New settlers followed gouges in the trees believing they’d be reunited with family again. The last letters received spoke of wealth in food and the possibility of golden cities further within the woods. Those settlers found none of such things even after following the trail for about an hour. Instead, they found land rich in spilled blood because blood was all that was left of the original settlers. Moms and dads, dead. Sisters and brothers, dead. Their food’s gone and homes crumbling into the ground. A single tree waited in the center of the Derry settlement. There somebody carved huge letters over and over and over again **We all float down here**.”

One of the girl’s fakes a scream startling the rest of them before the group bursts into laughter.

“What was that?” somebody else asks.

“I swear, it’s true. My dad told me all about it. Historians have looked into the incident, bodies not found but there’s evidence of the settlement. He also told me a story about when a nightclub The Black Spot was burned down by the KKK, which in itself is terrifying. To make it worse, a giant bird with balloons tied to its wing. . .” Mike trails away. A twig snaps, it sounds more like a gunshot going off causing everybody in the group to scream.

Eddie gasps looking down at a stick underneath his toes. “My bad.”

“I think somebody’s out there!” Jason Funderberker complains in a nasal voice.

Stan leans forward a bit and cups his mouth making a caw-caw sound.

“S-M-R-T, Stanny Boy,” Richie says this too loud.

The group leaps up yelping at the sound of his voice. Eddie covers his mouth, everybody makes their best attempt to stay hidden and quiet as the storytelling group looks around the grave plots.

“H-H-Hello?” Bill calls out.

Even with Eddie’s hand over Richie’s mouth, he tries to come up with a plan. “We all run and tackle Bill.”

“What? No way!” snaps Stan.

“Bad idea,” adds Bev.

“Who’s there?” Mike shouts, he stands up using his flashlight to search for them. While nobody can see them, their shadows are evident.

“Three. . .” Richie starts and pushes Eddie’s hand away from his face. “Two. . .”

But Richie doesn’t make it to _one_ because turns out, they really aren’t alone. From behind a tree, Henry Bowers steps out while he plays with a switchblade. He chuckles. His friends are with him, all who step out from the shadows and into the light.

“Hey cunts!” Henry barks at them.

Richie crouches a little lower into his hiding spot. Two members of his Bowers Gang make their way towards the group that’s storytelling out there.

“Empty your pockets and nobody’ll get hurt,” continues Henry.

Both Bowers Gang kids hold up so-called trick-or-treat bags, they’re really giant trash bags waiting to get filled up. One by one, storytelling members get up and start emptying their pockets. Richie has to squint to get a better image of what’s happening even with his glasses on. Bill is standing there, he digs into his pocket and freezes up ‘cause right in his hand is the mixtape labeled _For You_. 

All is lost.

Richie is so close, _so close_ to lurching forward to take back that mixtape only for Eddie to shout at him, “Don’t you dare!” 

The problem though, Eddie doesn’t even mean to shout it but he does shout it and shouts it real loud and real mad. The Bowers Gang swivels their attention around to the second group hanging out in the graveyard. This gives Bill time to stand around looking at the mixtape, front and back. There’s _For You_ then all the songs listed on the back each with particular meanings he may or may not be able to figure out from random past conversations.

“And what do we got over here?” comments Henry Bowers. Somebody shines a light on them. 

“Fuck off!” Bev snaps at him, her cheeks burning red and full of anger.

“Shit, look at what we have here.” His eyes are focused on Bev. “You losers are trying too hard to get with her.” He nods in Bev’s direction. “All you. . .”

Only Ben cuts Henry off by launching a rock at his face. It knocks some surprise into Henry who stumbles a few steps back. Bev throws another rock at Henry who shuts up as he glares at them.

All the while, Bill looks up from the mixtape at Richie who is staring him down. Before the Bowers Gang can mess up the moment further, Richie grabs a rock chucking it at Henry, as well. “Go blow your dad, Bowers!” He darts across the graveyard at Bill ready to snatch the mixtape for himself. As he heads in their direction, Mike picks up a stick whacking it into Bowers Gang kids.

A fight breaks out yet Eddie doesn’t participate he’s just chasing after Richie. There’s rocks and sticks and candy flying in every direction. A beer flies at somebody in a sad demise. Richie has his eyes on the mixtape but for some reason, Eddie pushes him to the ground when he catches up. Already asthma is teasing him for moving so fast. Oxygen only hurts. Richie hits the ground, his funny bone strikes some grave. He rubs his arm and reaches for his glasses that fell off. First he grabs Eds Jr. but grimaces and let’s go. Richie puts his glasses back on looking up at Eddie.

“Fuck you! What was that for?” Richie snaps.

“We gotta go. . .!” Eddie grabs onto Richie, shoving him to his feet. Everybody scatters, and for good reason. Richie and Eddie need to scatter because Henry Bowers is coming right for them screaming, armed with a knife and all pent up anger.

Richie fetches Eds Jr. from the ground before he darts off towards the fence. He does his best to hop over it. With his free hand, he gets Eddie to follow him along. Already there’s no sign of Bill, Mike or any of the others. That mixtape is now forever in Bill’s hand. Guess he’ll just casually become the _you_ of _for you_.

But this is the chance to run away and start a new life except fucking Henry throws himself into the fence, the tremor knocks both Richie and Eddie over the side and into the Barrens. Richie hugs Eds Jr. protecting him from the fall even as he tumbles over and over and over again flying downhill. Branches snap, crackle, and pop. It’s them or their bones as both Eddie and Richie flip out of sight of the graveyard.

Just darkness waits above Eddie, it’s perched on his chest. He lies there glad it stopped. Bruises swell up around him and it sounds like somebody is rummaging through the Barrens towards him. “Rich? Richie?” Even though so much weight holds him down, Eddie inhales deep enough to have the strength to sit up again. He swears he hears a ribbit from Eds Jr. “Richie?! RICHIE!” Broken sticks are around him with lots of dead leaves and no sight of Richie or Eds Jr.

Eddie stands up hearing somebody still running after them. Can’t be Richie. They’re too big but there’s no Richie, no Richie Trashmouth Tozier by him. A fall like that could snap ones neck and then that’s it, that’s the end.

“RICHARD TOZIER!” Eddie yells at the trees and no voice yells back. “. . .Richie. . .?”

_”He’s not here.”_

Eddie looks to his left still yelling, “Richie?” He knows it isn’t Richie.

Stan is standing close to him with a candle in hand. “Richie’s. . .not here.”

It takes Eddie a few seconds to realize, he’s not standing. That’s stupid. His joints hurt too much, ice bit down deep into his bones, but there’s warmth here for him. He sits up in a bed with a big blanket weighs down on him. The whole time he’s staring at Stan and his candle. Wait, he’s been there before. They’re back at the tavern, but by _they_ it meant no Richie. Both him and Richie had shared a bed there earlier only _earlier_ sounded funny because time wasn’t really a thing out there between the trees.

“Bill and Ben are ordering food from downstairs,” Stan informs Eddie. “We crossed paths again.”

“But-But. . .But where’s-Where’s. . .Where’s Richie?”

Stan takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “It got him.”

Eddie stares at Stan. “What? What got him?”

“It.”

“But. . .” Eddie trails away without much else to say.

Yet Stan cuts in not letting a better explanation come up about Richie, “You almost drowned. Bev found you.” After this, he pulls out bird-shaped scissors and drops them into Eddie’s palm. “I don’t know where she went through, but she needs that.”

“She betrayed us, this is her fault,” Eddie is quick to retort. “And-And go back! Go back! What do you mean It got him?”

“Richie’s not coming back,” is the best response Stan offers him. There’s a knock on the door before Bill and Ben enter while balancing as much food as they can in their arms. 

Eddie shoots Bill a dirty look before returning his focus on Stan. “Stop lying to me.”

Stan stands up again. “It’s not your fault.”

Ben and Bill pretend they’re not hanging around and listening to the conversation as they set up the food for them like it’s about to be some happy mini picnic. The entire time, Bill looks at the floor because he can’t manage to make eye contact with Eddie.

While sitting around on the bed, Eddie can feel the cold constraining his body to it. So much pain, his makeshift cast is a whole mess, too. He thinks back to all that running in the woods before the ice broke, the ice broke, the ice broke and now he’s sitting around inside a tavern all alive while Richie’s. . .

_Not coming back_.

Bill sits there and pats the ground for Eddie to join but Eddie doesn’t, Eddie just sits around on the bed staring at them all like how could they do that. Everybody’s sitting there not think, again and again, he’s sitting there all alive while Richie. . .

Eddie’s fingers collapse over the scissors and he looks up at them all whispering, “But it is my fault.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's just one more left after this! One more!
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts because I'm having so much fun and I hope you are, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everybody for hanging in there with me! There's a lot of parts of this that I'm scared cause I know I won't do it justice but have had a lot of fun writing this. 
> 
> Hope you're enjoying it. Pls let me know if you do because it'll make me feel all happy.


End file.
